


much ado about demon hunting

by Human_mosquito, I_fell_asleep



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Autistic Alec Lightwood, Clace is Hero/Claudio, F/M, I just realised Simon isn't here, Jace is a lightwood even though i don't think he should be allowed near Alec, M/M, Malec is Beatrice/Benedick, Mentions of incest, Much Ado About Nothing AU, Nonbinary Meliorn (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Projection, References to Sex, Sebastian is don john, TW for slutshaming, Underhill as Dogberry, and misogyny (both brief and canon typical), bc im too lazy to rewrite all of sh canon with mooinjer veggey or tylwyth teg, begrudingly writing this with ya lit style faeries, clace is not edgame, faeries don't have an accurate or any concept of (human) gender, fite me, general Shakespearean tomfoolery, i'm not an incest shipper, i've also forgotten don pedro, jace is still a jerk in this, much ado canon, only slight ableism, probably aroacre Raphael but thats B--k canon and i don't want anything to do with that, slight crack, them/them meliorn, unless i've gotten them mixed up again, want to stress again that clace is not endgame, we aren't creeps who think the sun shines out of his ass, well it's a fic where Clary was raised a sh so i guess hhe logically wouldn't?, why are we writing clace fic? we hate clace?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Human_mosquito/pseuds/Human_mosquito, https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_fell_asleep/pseuds/I_fell_asleep
Summary: Malec Much ado About Nothing au.When Jace and Alec Lightwood come to the Louisiana Institute after a victorious battle against a horde of Ravener demons, they are welcomed as heroes. but with Jace's bitter adoptive brother plotting, something bad is bound to happen.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Isabelle Lightwood/Meliorn, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Maia Roberts & Raphael Santiago
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Auraline is Yanaia, the seelie that Jonathon hires to be fake Clary. I didn't know she had name when I started the outline and it kinda stuck.
> 
> I_fell_alseep actually wrote most of this -human_mosquito

"You should've seen me out there," Jace says, flexing as subtly as he can manage.

"Your dozenth backflip was _almost_ impressive." Alec snarks. He's a mess, covered in still-healing scratches, dirt, ichor and blood - unlike Jace, of course.

“I thought you were impressive, brother,” Jonathan drawls. “Of course, you could stand to lose the ego. But I’m sure someone out there can stand that.” He unzips his jacket and drops it in a corner of the entry hall.

I don’t have an ego,” Jace snaps. “I’m just naturally, y’know, not blind to my strengths,”

Alec looks away from Jace very pointedly and purses his lips.

The man who let them in clears his throat awkwardly. “I was told you had to meet the institute heads - for debriefing. They should be in the Ops Centre. It’s, uh, down the hall to the left, then up the stairs.”

The Louisiana Institute is a low rise, modernist building disguised as an overpriced apartment block. To Shadowhunters it is one of the more hospitable institutes in North America, to mundanes, a sign of gentrification in the more affordable parts of town. For the past eight years it has been under the management of the Fairchild-Morgensterns.

Despite the technological advancements and welcoming atmosphere, the Ops Centre of the Louisiana institute, however, is one of the worst Alec has ever seen.

“Welcome, boys.” Mrs Fairchild says, rising to meet them. “I heard the three of you defeated an entire nest of Raveners just outside the city limits. We were completely unaware of one,”

“Well,” Jace preens. “It was mostly me, but my ‘parabatai’ and my brother helped a little,” He stops and cocks his head, as if in thought. “Guess it was ‘us’, then, huh.”

Jocelyn’s husband, Valentine, reaches out to slap Jace on the back, “Well done, my boy! I’d expect no less from a Morgenstern!”

The group lapses into an awkward silence.

It’s hard enough, Alec thinks, knowing someone else is your parent’s favourite child, but it’s so much worse to hear it out loud. His own childhood had more than proven that.

Valentine clears his throat. “Right, well, I need that report for next Tuesday. Spare no detail,”

“I shall do it straight away father, you shall not be disappointed,” Jonathan says.

Valentine jumps, clearly having forgotten about Jonathan. “Wife, I have to, uh, check Clarissa hasn’t gotten into trouble settling back in. I’ll be back.”

For the second time in five minutes, the conversation lulls into silence. This time Jocelyn breaks it.

“I know what!” She says, “We’ll throw a party in your honour! You’ve saved countless mundanes and nephilim by taking out that nest. It only seems right. I’ll set the date to tomorrow evening,” she pauses, “You’re expected back in New York for next week, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alec supplies, although it’s clear she’s going to continue on regardless.

“Perfect, I’ll tell the rest of the institute, you boys settle down in a room, Underhill—he’s the one who let you in—will point you in the right direction.” She seems to finally have run out of relevant information and Alec moves to search for the guard on duty. “And boys? There’s a Warlock checking the wards right now, just ignore him if you see him.”

“Which Warlock?” Alec asks. Too quickly, he thinks.

“Magnus Bane. Why?”

“He and Alec have a friendly rivalry,” Jace butts in, “When they first met, they got into a fight and it’s turned into a gay foreplay war,”

“As if I’d ever sleep with Magnus Bane! Not even if he was the last person on earth. And, also, I’m not even gay!” Alec glares straight at Jace. He loves to hint at Alec’s sexuality, as if he gets any choice about who knows and how they know.

" _Riiiiight_ ," says Jace. He mouths something offensive at Alec, his fish-like lips puckering at the end. It takes every last bit of control Alec has not to grab him by his greasy hair and slam his face down on the desk. He manages, but it's close.  
Instead he just turns on his heel and decides to find a room by himself. It's not easy in this institute, there's little to no organisation. Alec can't stand it. It makes him uneasy.

Humming distracts Alec from his thoughts and he turns around a corridor to find himself face-to-face with Magnus Bane.

Well, face to back. (and what an impressive back it is) Magnus clearly has no clue that Alec's there.

Alec tries not to look at Magnus. Tries not to, because Magnus draws eyes like a will-ó-wisp on a dark night. Everything about Magnus' appearance is perfect, his hair, his smile, his clothes - there's nothing unattractive about the way he looks. It's irritating to say the least. Confusing, even.

The humming stops and Alec plans to make his exit before Magnus does his dramatic little turn and sees him.

"I've never been to a 'shadowhunter party' before. I'm honestly excited for this." Magnus mutters.

Just the sound of his soft, melodic voice grates on Alec's nerves so much he can't keep himself from speaking up:

"You realise that no one cares, right?"

Instant. Regret.

Magnus freezes, then turns towards him, smiling and graceful. "Oh, Alexander! I was wondering why it suddenly felt so gloomy here."

"I don’t have to wonder. Seeing you tends to make me gloomy."

"You flatter me, pretty boy."

Alec scoffs, "Are you really flirting with me? How desperate are you?"

"It's nice to make someone feel attractive for once."

"I don't want to be attractive. Not everyone is obsessed with appearances."

"Lucky for you." Magnus tilts his head. "Actually, when I think about it, you don't have a likeable personality. I suppose you're out of luck."

Alec scowls, "I'm more bearable than you, at least."

"Not many would agree, my dear."

Alec scowls harder, if that's possible. He's stopped from reacting, however, by Izzy laying a hand on his arm.

“Careful, big brother, we don’t want to get in trouble." Behind her, stands Morgenstern and his daughter, a redhead who is gaping at them shamelessly. Something about her puts Alec on edge instantly.

Izzy squeezes his arm. "Play nice."

"Don't touch me out of nowhere," he snaps. He feels bad immediately after. In his head, Maryse Lightwood reprimands him for being 'weird' and 'simple'.

Despite Hiring Magnus, Valentine still turns up his nose at the sight of a warlock in his institute but chooses to say nothing. Even so, Alec tenses and moves closer to Magnus. It's protective, but only because he doesn't want to deal with the Clave if something does happen. Maintaining the accords is important enough to set aside his feelings.

"All done here," says Magnus, forcefully bright. He hides his feelings well, just not well enough. Alec can see right through him.

"It's gonna be expensive, isn't it." Valentine prompts.

Magnus still looks uneasy, but nods. "It is what it is."

He grunts. "Go ask Johnathan."

Magnus presses his lips together.

Indignation rises up in Alec. Johnathan has been nothing but vocal about his hatred for downworlders. Most of what he said during the mission had been racist and downright disgusting. Alec had thought he'd been bad when he was younger and listened to everything his parents said, but Johnathan took things to a whole other level. No doubt, he'll try to scam Magnus and take advantage of the fact that no downworlder feels safe in an institute.  
He has to go with Magnus. For fairness, safety, whatever. There's no other choice.

He steels himself and asks Valentine: "Do you know where he could be?"

"No," Valentine waves him off, "I have more important things to worry about. I'm sure that the warlock can find out with magic or whatever."

"His name's Magnus and he’s still here."

"Mhm. Sure."

Alec huffs and turns to Magnus, there's nothing to be done about Valentine, it's clear how Jonathan's opinions formed. "Come on."

Magnus blinks and shakes his head. He looks a little stunned for a minute. "Wait, come with you?"

"Yes, obviously. Move it."

"I don't like being bossed around outside of bed."

Alec makes a disgusted noise and storms off without checking to see if Magnus is following. He is, of course, grumbling all the while about 'ridiculously long legs'.

Izzy watches them go, rubbing her temple. At this rate, her older brother and his crush will drive her into an early grave faster than shadowhunting will.

Something needs to be done. _Soon_.

***

"Explain to me again how this is a good idea?"

Maia lifts her head to stare at him. "Free food."

"It's not free if we get caught," Raphael points out, despite his reservations he reaches for a jar of peanut butter. Maia beams at him.

"Personally I think we should be allowed to take what we want from shadowhunters. Reparations and all."

"You make a convincing argument,"

"And we'll hear anyone coming easily." She carefully places a can into her bag, already containing blood pouches from the infirmary. There's more than enough left in the institute anyway.

Raphael hums and tilts his head in a very Magnus-esque fashion. Then he freezes.

"Someone _is_ coming."

Maia whips round to stare at the door. He's right, there are footsteps coming towards them. Slowly, she goes to move, but Raphael holds a hand out.

"Wait," he says.

She does, listens for a bit, then nods and relaxes. "Heels."

Isabelle Lightwood steps through the door.

"Oh thank god," she says. "I need to talk to someone who understands this "

"Understands…?" Raphael doesn't get to finish. Quick as a flash, Izzy grabs them both by the arm and drags them into a corner.

“Their fucking sexual tension is fucking killing me we have to do something about it,” she whispers.

"Them being...?"

"Magnus and Alec. It's getting on my last nerve and I know they'll never figure it out themselves,"

"Are you saying we should do it for them?" asks Maia.

Izzy grins slowly, a wicked gleam in her eye. "Oh, you know me so well."

***

“You know,” Jamys Glassfeer says, “I’ve been thinking about rain. It’s pretty fucked that rain happens and I don't like it.”

“Yes, but there’s a very good reason it happens, Jay,” his companion replies. The companion in question, Luca Toroverde has heard this exact complaint five times and has only now thought of a proper answer. “You should try thinking about hail instead. That’s much worse.”

Jamys rolls his eyes. “Yes, my fellow Shadowhunter, it would seem so, however, rain is much more complicated than it first seems and I despise it for that. Hail is exactly one thing and rain could learn a thing or two from it!”

“Rain has a lot more use than hail, it should be varied,” Luca states, more emphatically than he’s ever wanted to. “Rain gives plants proper waterings and doesn’t sound obnoxiously loud when it hits the roof or the fucking skylights.”

Jamys pinches his nose and groans. “What is a skylight? If it's slang for greenhouse I will kill you. You know how I feel about greenhouses."

“It’s a window, Jay, the ones on roofs.”

“I hate the English language.”

***

Magnus exits the institute more than a little irritated. He knew he wasn't going to have a great time fixing wards or doing work for the Morgenstern-Fairchilds but seeing Alec Lightwood was really the cherry atop an already awful day. The overcast weather matches his mood perfectly.

He stops to wait for Maia and Raphael—God knows what they wanted from an institute—when he hears a familiar laugh.

What were they doing? Were they waiting for him? Curious he peeks around the wall.

Maia and Raphael are there, yes, but so is Isabelle Lightwood. She has some sort of Seelie invention blocking the rain and the sun rather than an umbrella and they're all huddled under it.

"It's ridiculous honestly." says Isabelle.

Raphael leans in close and winks. “you know, he’s not even being subtle these days,”

“I know, I always see him staring straight at Magnus’ ass,” Maia groans, “Like, if you’re going to have a crush, please look somewhere else from time to time. Where you’re going, maybe.”

“If i was him i’d put my pride aside and do something other than sigh whenever my crush leaves the room,” Raphael says.

“If you were him you wouldn’t be looking at anyone’s ass.”

“True,” Raphael turns to look behind him and grins. “It must be so hard being in love with Magnus when Magnus hates him. If I were Lightwood—” he flounders, “—sexual attraction aside, I’d be so distraught, I’d beg for death,” He wrinkles his nose very visibly at the mention of sex but the conversation moves on.

Maia sighs in such a genuine way Raphael is almost convinced she’s forgotten the ruse. “Poor Lightwood. Maybe Magnus will have to let him down gently. That would break his little shadowhunter heart.”

"I don't think he'd ever recover," says Izzy. She sounds forlorn, as if she’s mourning her brother's heart for real.

Magnus slumps against the wall. His hands are shaking.

Alec has a crush on him. Alec. has a crush on him. Alec. Has a crush. On him.

"Oh." He breathes. So much makes sense now. He slides down to the ground and rests his elbows on his knees, staring blankly ahead. "Oh."

His head spins.  
It's not entirely bad, Alec would be a good boyfriend, hypothetically speaking of course. Magnus isn't interested in dating, much less in dating Alec.

Right?

Magnus doesn't want to break Alec's heart. But Magnus also isn't the type of person people are heartbroken over. He just isn't.  
Still, that's Alec's sister, why would she lie about his feelings?

"Oh, that's sad," says Maia,across the Institute courtyard.

"Not Magnus' fault he doesn't feel the same." Raphael points out.

Right. _Right_. But does he feel the same? He doesn't know. His face is warm, his heart is racing, but that doesn't necessarily mean he likes Alec back.

It sounds weak even to him.

Magnus stumbles to his feet. He needs time, maybe a drink and some sleep. He'll figure it out.

It takes a few tries to make a portal with how distracted and overwhelmed he is, but he manages it.

Unbeknownst to him, the three conspirators watch him leave. Then:

"Wait, wasn't he our portal out?"

***

An overcast day, as many a screenwriter knows, is the second perfect day for an evil plan. Second best will have to do, Jonathon has been second best all his life. He gestures to his minions, it is time for action.

“Dearest Meliorn, Dearest Auraline, I have recruited you to aid me destroy my bastard brother’s reputation, a feat so heinous, dastardly and cunning I can only draw two people into my confidence.” Morgenstern drawls.

Auraline stares at him incredulously. “Okay, now in normal english?”

“I’m plotting to fuck my sister and get my brother out of the way.”

"Well, I'm no expert in mortal relationships, but I don't think that's right."

"It's perfectly normal!” Jonathan proclaims “Society has just abandoned certain things because some people didn't like them. Back in the Good Old Days plenty of people fucked—even married—their siblings!" .

“I have a plan!” Meliorn interrupts, “We wait until your siblings try to fuck and remind everyone they’re _also_ siblings!”

"Genius!" says Auraline. "I love it."

“You Imbecilic fools.” Jonathan snaps, “That will never work. Leave my sight, immediately.”

"Dry shite," Auraline mutters. Meliorn bites back a laugh. They link arms as they leave.

Their easy comradery is somewhat enviable to someone so lonely as Johnathan. For a second, he wants something like it. Only a second. He doesn't need friends, he'll have Clarissa. That's all that matters to him.

***  
Clary couldn't remember the last time the Louisiana Institute had had a party, maybe after she'd left on a deployment otherwise it had been at least 3 years, that was the last party she's been to. Her Institute was headed by Julian MayFlower, who didn't believe in celebrations of any kind.

Up until recently, she had been stationed in the Dublin institute. She hadn't been around for the Lightwoods' arrival, she hadn't even met them before and had been overjoyed at the prospect of people her age. All Dublin had to offer was two seven-year-olds and an accent she couldn't understand.

She knew her father had adopted Jace Lightwood at one point, but that was during the time he and her mother had been going through a rough patch. Jocelyn had kept Valentine away from her out of spite until they made up and by then, Jace was gone.

The guy before her is what she considers to be attractive. She supposes. Maybe it's his smart clothes or maybe there's just something about the way he's looking at her that sends her heart a-flutter.

For once she feels wanted. Desirable.

“Hi, uh, Clary? I’m Jace,” he says.

She bites her lip, “Yeah, I know. Do you want to dance?”

Something in him lights up. He grins at her. The fluttering feeling grows more intense. "I'd love to," he says.

His hand in hers fits just right.

Across the room someone sees them and comes up with his master plan.

Jonathan snaps his fingers to catch his taller minion’s attention. “Minion, I have your task, comply well and you and your associate will be compensated well,”

“Yeah, I’m here,” says Meliorn, only half paying attention.

“I need you to seduce a girl as similar to my sister as you can, I will give you further instructions when I have confirmation,”

"You're paying me to have sex with a girl?" Meliorn thinks for a moment, then shrugs with an easy grin. "Alright then, It's ridiculous but I'm certainly not going to complain."

"No! Not just any girl, you fool!" hisses Johnathan, but it's too late, they make their way through the crowd without hearing a word.

***

The noises of the party are muffled by the door closing, made peaceful all of a sudden and less headache-inducing.

Alec rubs his arms, trying to get rid of the shaky feeling in them. He's exhausted and sore but it would be rude to leave.

He wants to sleep. He wants to be in his own room, back in New York. He wants this party to be over already.

It's cold out. The gardens are mostly empty, a few silhouettes here and there under the fairy lights, but not many. It's better than inside.

The Morgensterns have put a lot more work and care into their garden than they have in their institute. There are perfectly maintained flowers blooming colourfully all over the place. Alec feels clumsy and out of place amongst them.

He catches a flash of dark hair behind a bunch of purple hyacinths. He'd recognise his little sister anywhere.

She's sitting with two downworld leaders, not unusual, but they look fed up. He hesitates.

Izzy sighs deeply. "I always thought they'd be good together but I guess he's just not my brother's type."

"Your brother has awful taste then." Raphael tells her. "Anyone would be lucky to have Magnus."

"I know that. Alec doesn't."

Maia pops a strawberry in her mouth. "He wasn't saying you didn't."

"Should you even be eating those?" Asks Raphael.

Maia shrugs, then points another strawberry in Izzy's direction. "Point is, your brother's stupid. But I guess he's entitled to feel whatever."

Izzy chews her lip. Through the window she can see Magnus dancing with two of his friends, all three of them jumping up and down with their hands linked. The tallest one, who has stubby horns jutting out of his forehead, doesn't look happy at all. "I suppose."

"Hold on a minute." Raphael holds his hand up, staring intently at his phone. "Okay, yeah, you can eat strawberries."

Maia smiles at him fondly, then turns back to Izzy. "What is his type anyway? Just out of curiosity?"

"I don't know. He never talks about this stuff."

"Well either way Magnus is heartbroken over it. So it doesn't really matter,"

Alec feels a little numb, disconnected. Magnus likes him? But….

He can't come up with anything. There's nothing but the sound of his own heart and the knowledge that Magnus likes him.

It's just tiredness, he tells himself. That's all. Sure, Magnus is magical, in more ways than one, beautiful and kind too, but Alec's not into him like that. Why is this so hard for some people to understand?

 _(Another excuse? How many more_?) 

"Maybe knock some sense into him," says Raphael, "Couldn't hurt to try."

Maia laughs, "It'll hurt _him_."

"Tragic."

Maybe Alec should leave after all. He clearly needs to rest. Everything will be fine in the morning.

He rubs his eyes. It'll be okay. It has to be.

"Who do you think took it worse," Maia murmurs.

"Give them time," Raphael assures her. "Magnus isn't doing too bad now is he?"

"No. You're right." she says.

"Always," Raphael picks up another strawberry and feeds it to her.

Izzy tunes out of the conversation and resigns herself to her fate as she wobbles in her heels, a little drunk. She stumbles after only a few steps.

“Whoa, hey there,” says the owner of the strong set of arms holding her up. “Isabelle?”

“Meliorn? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, faeries can’t resist a good revel,” they smile at her warmly and she remembers the summer they spent in various cramped spaces.

“I do know,” she says, flashing a smile of her own.

Meliorn looks as stunning as the last time she saw them. The scar on their right temple has been mostly covered by a tattoo of ivy and they’ve braided their hair with red string that, through some turn of fate, perfectly matches Izzy’s dress.

“Would you care for a dance,” they say.

Izzy links their arms and leads them inside to the dance floor in place of an answer. It is a well known fact that faeries are the best dancers in all of heaven, hell, and various inbetweens.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took forever.

Jace takes a deep breath and straightens his jacket. He feels somewhat nervous for the first time in years, despite knowing everything will turn out alright. With another breath he pushes open the door and steps inside Morgenstern's office. 

“Dad," he says, "And Mrs Fairchild, nice to see you. I would like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Valentine blinks, caught off guard. "That was a strange sentence."

"Is that a no?" 

"No, I'm just saying—" He sighs and picks up the files he'd dropped. "You know what? Nevermind. Go ahead."

"Knowing Clary she'd marry you no matter what we think." Says Jocelyn. Valentine nods in agreement. 

"Stubborn as a rock that girl."

“And how exciting! Two parties in one week!” 

“Two?” Jace gapes.

“Of course. Engagements don’t last very long anymore—Just think about your Parabatai and his ex-fiancée.” Jocelyn disregards his shock and continues, “I’m thinking Wednesday would be perfect, I’ll get Clary out shopping for her dress. Oh! I'm so excited.”

Is there any stopping this woman, Jace thinks. He pushes the thought to the edge of his mind and thanks the Morgensterns before he leaves to find Alec. He can deal with this.

…..

Alec is alone when Jace finds him. He doesn’t exactly have much of a social life, much to his parent’s dismay.

He’s staring intently at a tablet, frowning. Jace swipes it from his hands.

“Wh-Hey!”

Laughing, Jace dodges Alec’s attempts to get the tablet back, It’s easier than usual. Alec’s off balance.

"Jace, give it back." 

"Lighten up, Alec, come on," Jace teases, he lets Alec snatch the tablet back, caught off guard by the force. 

“Don’t take my stuff,” Alec snaps, cradling his tablet. "What do you want?" 

"I was gonna ask you to be my suggenes, but I figured you'd be too busy planning, so I asked Johnathan." 

"Planning?" 

"My wedding Alec, keep up."

"You never told me—" 

"Alec. Can you stop being so fucking slow for a minute? Why do I even try?" 

“Oh sorry,” Alec raises his hands then clenches them halfheartedly. “When is it? I have to finish the mission report still, because the party last night—.”

“Tuesday. The report isn’t as important as your 'parabatai' is it?”

Alec's breath hitches slightly. He knows Jace blames him for the bond breaking; and to be fair, Jace isn't entirely wrong. 

Alec had never wanted the bond. It's something only Izzy knows and she'd convinced him to go through with it. For every second of every day after, he'd regretted listening. Jace dumped all his feelings on Alec but had no clue what Alec himself felt; he didn't want to know - didn't care to know. Alec had been trapped and in pain with seemingly no way out. 

When it broke he felt like he was suddenly remembering how to breathe again. It hurt, but it was amazing. 

Then Jace came after him in a rage. He didn't like to think about it. 

Jace hadn't been punished in any way and Alec hadn't expected him to be. Things just didn't work like that. 

However, Izzy's feelings towards Jace changed drastically. She stopped asking Alec to forgive him. He had nobody but her on his side. It wasn’t something either of them were unused to.

In the end Alec apologised and tried to move on. There was no re-doing the ceremony, not while the place it had been on Alec’s skin was ruined. It was obvious why Jace kept calling him ‘parabtai’, and it wasn’t out of habit. The word had always been acrid and unpleasant in Alec’s mouth, doubly so now.

He swallows around the feeling, “I’ll get it done. Don’t worry,” it’s the least he can do, isn’t it?

Jace pats him roughly on the shoulder, it makes an unpleasant feeling shoot through his body. It takes effort to not flinch.

“I knew I could count on you.”

Alec tries not to grimace. Everyone could count on Alec, but Alec could never count on himself and rarely on others  
"Yeah, 'course. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, I won't," Jace assures him."I'm leaving all that to you."

"Great." 

"You're good at it anyway." Alec knows that Jace thinks it's the only thing he’s good at, besides being annoying and a bore. At least he's useful. 

"Okay," Alec nods, more to himself than Jace. The backhanded compliment stings but pushing it aside is easy, the real problem is how tired he feels—in general and at the thought of this wedding.   
He'll manage anyway. That's what he always does. His hands begin to shake. It's probably the way he's holding them. 

He'll be fine. 

He's always fine. 

….. 

After looking for hours on end, Johnathan finally finds Meliorn. They're sitting outside a friendly-looking café, full to the brim with plants. There are fairy lights strung over the front and a blackboard near the door with a mix of English and words Johnathan doesn't recognise. The name isn't even English.

When he reaches Meliorn he slams his hand down on their table to get their attention. It works, but they look completely disinterested.

"Have you secured a woman?" Johnathan asks. "The plan will be taking place tonight."

Meliorn, unhurried, takes a long sip of their coffee. "You make this sound unsavoury," They take another drink, “Though I suppose it is.”

“Nonsense,” huffs Johnathan, “This is about true love, Clarissa will finally see that we belong to one another, that we are soulmates, she is my Hera, none of that is ‘unsavoury’.” 

Meliorn raises an eyebrow, “Hera? I’m no expert on human mythology, but didn’t her brother trick her into marrying him then cheat on her repeatedly?”

“That’s not the point!”

"The point is that they're...siblings, then?" 

Johnathan draws himself up to his full height, eyes flashing, "I'm not paying you to judge me, Seelie." 

Meliorn just shrugs, "Fair enough." They look away and start playing with one of the large leaves of a Monstera plant installed outside the café, sharing a secret smile with a waitress at the table furthest from theirs. 

Jonathan's lip curls in disgust. Downworlders are taking over everything these days. A faery café is the last thing the world needs. Some of the employees aren't even Seelies. He doesn't even know what kind of folk they are.It doesn’t matter to Jonathan, Downworlders are Downworlders. 

"You didn't answer my question," he says. 

"No, I didn't," Meliorn sounds surprised. "Huh."

"Then answer it! Do you have a woman or not?" 

Meliorn frowns at him, the faery waitress rolls up her sleeves, staring Johnathan down; a warning. 

"I don't appreciate your tone." 

Johnathan scoffs, "My tone? You downworlders are so easily offended, Angel. Did you, or did you not acquire a suitable woman for tonight's scheme? Yes or no." 

"Yes."

“There. Was that so hard?” 

Meliorn grits their teeth and turns away again. Jonathan reaches out, but immediately his wrist is caught in a small, surprisingly strong hand. The faery waitress bares her teeth at him.

“If you’re not going to buy anything then i suggest you leave. Now.”

“We’re just talking,” Jonathan protests. He tries to pull away, but the waitress won’t let go. He can feel his bones grinding painfully.

“I don’t care. Leave. Déan deifir.”

“Alright!” He hisses, “Let go!”

She does. His wrist is slightly pink, it feels tender. He rubs it gently. The waitress gives him a sweet customer service smile, dark eyes wide, and bounces off. 

Downworlders.

Meliorn hides a smirk behind their cup, watching Johnathan scurry away. Then they raise it to the waitress, making her laugh. 

It's the little things that make life great. 

….. 

Johnathan shakes Jace awake in the middle of the night, suppressing his excitement. He must manage to look somewhat upset, because Jace doesn't immediately start hissing at him to get out. 

"There's something you need to see," he whispers, "It's not good."

"Have Alec look at it." Jace grumbles back. 

Johnathan shakes his head, "It's about Clarissa."

Suddenly Jace seems more awake. "What do you mean?" 

"I heard her talking to—Oh, I can't say it, it's dreadful. But you deserve to know."

"Know what?" 

Johnathan just shakes his head. “Just please. Come with me, I really cannot say.”  
Jace slides out of bed, frowning and throws on yesterday's clothes. “This better be important.”

“Trust in me, brother,” says Johnathan, “It is.”

He leads Jace through the darkened institute. The Shadowhunters on watch pay them no mind, but Johnathan feels as though one wrong move will bring his plan crashing down. He makes himself as inconspicuous as possible. He doesn't look at Jace. 

The sounds of the coffee machine and soft conversation are far too loud, Johnathan can almost hear every word spoken—some people aren't happy about the wedding. He bites back a smile. 

The air nips at their skin. Jonathan can feel Jace’s irritation growing steadily by the minute.

There's an open window, lit up with a trail of flowered vines trailing down - the agreed upon marker—silhouetted in the window are two people embracing, tearing at each other's clothes. Jonathan holds out his arm to block Jace and points, then freezes.

The girl in the window is of a similar height to Clary, but that's it. Her hair is clearly darker, her figure curvier. Fear strikes Johnathan, he never should’ve trusted a seelie. Of course creatures of mischief, as such, wouldn’t do anything right. He grits his teeth and turns to Jace.

He looks horrified, mouth and eyes wide. “Clary…?” He whimpers.

The girl in the window laughs as though she heard Jace, flipping her hair back. Meliorn draws her in closer.

At that moment what little faith Johnathan has in his brother dies. He's never known anyone so incredibly stupid, he didn't even know it was possible. 

He's not about to complain in any case. Gently he lays his hand on Jace's shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I never thought my sister would do something so….heinous.”

Jace shakes his head and lets out a quiet sob. He crumples pathetically. Jonathan holds him close, hiding his face so Jace won’t see him smirk. He cares more about his shirt. Jace is getting tears and snot all over him. 

“She lied to me,” Jace bawls. "She—she's not a—a—" 

Johnathan isn't sure Clary would actually say anything about her sex life or lack thereof. They barely know each other and it isn’t like his sister to openly discuss these kinds of things with a stranger. Jace is likely just being dramatic.   
Though he also didn't think Clary would marry a stranger either, so maybe she did. The fact that Jace cares, however, is a clear sign that he isn’t worthy of Clary. Johnathan doesn’t care so long as he’s the one who gets her in the end. 

\-----

The institute is bustling when Magnus arrives. It's a sharp and unpleasant contrast to his bleary eyes.

On a more positive note, most of the shadowhunters are too busy to care about a Warlock wandering around, which Magnus does appreciate. He's still uneasy, but it's easier to manage when he isn't being stared down and whispered about. 

In the epicentre stands Isabelle Lightwood, giving out orders. He sees a box of flowers being carried out to somewhere. 

Flowers. In an institute. 

Frowning, Magnus makes his way through the crowd, over to Izzy. She notices him immediately and slumps in relief. 

“What’s going on?” 

Before Izzy can reply, another shadowhunter—a blond with a weird accent—cuts in, “There’s a wedding,” He spits, "It's all ridiculous, they're related for Raziel's sake!” he throws his arms up into his chest, “Just any excuse for celebration, I guess."

"Who?"

"Jace and Clary Fairchild," says Izzy

"Siblings." The other shadowhunter reminds them. 

"Oh," Magnus feels awkward. How is someone supposed to react when they hear something like that? "Is that why you called? To help with the wedding?" 

Izzy hums, there's an odd look on her face, Magnus feels slightly uneasy. "Yeah, I figured the more help the better, especially since Jace has unsurprisingly dumped most of the planning on Alec." 

"Really?" 

Izzy's grin is wicked and a little terrifying, Magnus doesn't know what he did or why she's looking at him like that but he's not too pleased about it. 

"Surely you wouldn't mind helping?" she says, "I know about your… feelings for each other, but you can put those aside right? Poor Alec might just keel over without help…"

Magnus wants to laugh, she has no idea what his feelings for Alec are. He'd only just found out himself. 

“Of course,” he tells her, “it shouldn’t be a problem. We might not even run into each other.”

“Maybe,” she shrugs, “maybe not.”

Magnus isn't sure what he wants more. He's a mess inside, completely unprepared. He's not sure what to say to Alec, or how to say anything to him at all. It’s pathetic.

He doesn’t think of Camille, he doesn’t think of his father, he doesn’t—

“In any case,” Izzy continues, “I’m sure he’ll be glad for the help, even if he doesn’t show it.”

Magnus nods. He doesn’t like that Alec’s expected to do everything. He wants to ask if it’s normal, if everyone just lets it happen, but he doesn’t want to seem rude or start a fight in the middle of an institute.

He knows how Alec could be feeling about it at least. He’s never liked saying ‘no’ to anyone who wants help either.

He feels fondness, and anger on Alec’s behalf. He’s got it bad. It’s strange to acknowledge his feelings after denying them for so long. It isn’t bad, per say, just new. Odd.

“I’ll do what I can,” he promises.

“I know,” says Izzy.

\-----

There’s no closing time for the cafe. Thanks to a nifty bit of seelie magic, it’s doorway exists in many different places at once. It’s good for bringing in money. 

A werewolf and a vampire sit together under a painting done by an artist who died tragically young—a woman who managed to break the heart of a Leannan sídhe. Apparently the poor thing is still in mourning.

The pair are discussing something in hushed tones and Sétanta, believing eavesdropping to be a cardinal sin, makes a point of clearing up as noisily as she can to distract herself and other customers from what they might be saying. Of course, she can’t stop herself from seeing the wedding invites as she passes their table, or from figuring out what kind of wedding it is. 

Only Nephilim would have such detached looking wedding invites. Sétanta has only been to a few weddings, but no matter how boring the initial service was, the rest was a fun and frankly, adorable celebration of love and advertised as such. These invites looked like an advert for an insurance company or whatever fad mortals had invented now.

Maybe that’s why the ginger Shadowhunter had been harassing Meliorn earlier. A wedding. Was he a groomzilla? It must be political then. She decides to forgive the invites if that’s the case. She wouldn’t be feeling very inspired if she or someone she knew was marrying him. 

She bangs her hip on the counter on her way into the back, she almost swears, but there’s a frowny middle-aged woman bickering with Mac there so she keeps a lid on it. They make a face at her.

Illiam’s in the back, hiding away to breathe she thinks. As she starts washing the plates she turns to him, unable to hold back.

“There’s a wedding, I think.” 

He blinks at her. “Oh that. Are you going?”

“No. Just gossiping. The invites were awful.”

“The Shadowhunter one?”

She points at him, “Yep. They invited downworlders. So there’s that.”

“Revolutionary,” he snorts. 

“I honestly feel sorry for them. It’s gonna be boring.”

“And there’ll be shadowhunter food.”

Sétanta hums softly, “I eat raw fish. So I don’t think I can complain.”

He laughs at her and she tilts her cap to him. He taps his in return. “Probably better than whatever they make anyway.”

It’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of plates clinking and water sloshing. Then:

“They’re related. The people getting married, I mean.”

Sétanta drops the plate she’s holding. It doesn’t register for a bit. “What?”

“Yeah,” says Illiam. “I thought you’d react like that.”

“Danu, that’s disgusting.”

“Yep.” 

“I don’t know why I’m surprised, though. They’re all inbred motherfuckers, the lot of them.”

“Uh huh.”

She retrieves the lost plate, it didn’t break, thankfully, unlike her faith in mortals. She dries her hands quickly and rubs her temples. Sometimes she regrets leaving the ocean. 

“Fucking shadowbitches.”

The sound of a fire message cuts through the air. Illiam catches it. He reads over it once, twice and then a third time.

“Oh no,” he says.

“What?”

“Guess who’s been asked to make the cake?” 

\-----

By the time Magnus finally decides he's done, it's dark outside, pitch black save for a few lights here and there. It surprises him for a short while. 

He comes to terms with it easily, being immortal messes with your sense of time, after all. It's a relief to see, in any case. He's ready to fall into bed for a few centuries.

He checks everything is in order quickly—it is, obviously,—before turning to leave. His feet ache and he wishes he could just portal from inside the institute. 

The corridors seem longer than before. 

"Magnus, wait."

Magnus stops abruptly. He'd recognise Alec's voice anywhere. 

But it's gentler than usual. 

Alec is flushed slightly, his hair is messier than usual and his eyes have faint, watercolour-esque dark circles under them but, there's no malice in his gaze. It makes Magnus feel a little out of his depth. He isn't that opposed to it. 

"These are the wrong colour." Alec says and holds up a roll of white ribbon. "The wedding's pretty traditional so these should be gold."

Something warm blooms in Magnus' chest. "And you want me to fix that, right?" 

"Please. If it's not too much trouble." 

“Anything for you, pretty boy,”

Alec smiles at him, genuine and lopsided. For a moment Magnus forgets how to breathe. "Thank you." 

"Not a problem." Magnus hesitates as Alec leaves, but another look at Alec's face helps him make up his mind. He falls into step beside him. "Are you sleeping alright?" 

"Huh? Oh, that's… I'm fine, just busy. With the wedding in such a short time, reports to write, siblings to keep in line…" Alec sighs. He decides not to mention the unbearably sweet dreams he does have when he sleeps, the ones that make his heart ache when he wakes. The ones about Magnus. 

He's been dozing off here and there throughout the day and runes can only do so much for tiredness. It's not ideal and he's been getting a few looks for it. 

The only one to check on him had been Izzy, until now at least. 

It's nice. Magnus, caring about him. 

Alec stops abruptly. They'd ordered white lilies for the wedding. The smell is far too heavy. 

"Magnus," He starts, then breathes in deeply. Spur of the moment things aren't Alec's strong suit, he knows that, but this is important. 

Magnus stares at him, a little pink himself. His heart picks up speed. "Alexander?" 

"I'm sorry." A weight lifts off his shoulders, leaving him unbalanced. "Magnus, I - I've been awful to you, for no reason. You didn't deserve that."

"No, I didn't." Absentmindedly, Magnus rubs his thumb over his index finger repeatedly. "But neither did you."

"What? I started it!"

“Did you?” Magnus looks genuinely confused,"I was the one that made you uncomfortable."

Alec shakes his head. "No, no, I…misunderstood," he gestures vaguely, "all that."

"The flirting?" 

“Yeah,” it’s a little embarrassing to admit. Vulnerability is a shameful thing, but he feels different about it with Magnus. He wants to open up, even if it’s just a little; even if it’s to admit he doesn’t feel as secure in himself as he acts. Something tells him Magnus understands that.

Maybe they didn’t get along because Alec didn’t like being truly seen. Maybe. It does make sense, but Alec isn’t an expert in feeling things.

The look on Magnus’ face is doing things to him. He aches. There's something there that he's struggling to breathe around, a need, a want, some sort of desperation.

Magnus breathes in deep, “I meant what I said that day, about you being attractive.”

“I didn’t,” whispers Alec. It makes Magnus smile. 

"I'd hope not,” he looks up through his eyelashes, almost shy.

He’s beautiful. The idea that he likes Alec romantically is overwhelming - unbelievable. He doesn't know what to say. Neither of them do. Awkwardly tongue tied they stand, forcing people to walk around them. 

Magnus swallows, opens his mouth to speak, but smiles wider instead. It makes Alec laugh, quiet and short, idly he starts swaying on his feet. 

Everything's light - aglow. Magnus plays with his rings.

"I, um," Alec starts.

"Need anything else?" Magnus manages, "I can make you something to help you sleep, in fact, I've perfected that particular craft."

"I'll be fine, just, thank you. Again," 

"If you're sure," 

“Yeah, I am,” Alec scuffs his foot on the ground.

“Good to hear,” says Magnus, “but, if you ever do need something you know where to find me.” He doesn’t want to leave. 

Alec nods, “Yeah.”

They linger there, staring at each other. There's an urge to find something - anything - to say, just to be around each other longer; and a hesitant desire to touch. 

"You look nice," Alec tells him. 

"Thank you." Magnus has never thought of eye colour as important before, but he thinks he quite likes hazel. Especially like this, with the lighting and Alec's clothing bringing out the brown tones. 

Alec sways forward slightly, then stops himself and takes a step back."I should get going. I'll, um, see you at the wedding?" 

Magnus snaps out of his haze, "I'm invited?" 

"Yeah? Jocelyn likes having downworlders…in her pocket, I guess? Since you're taking over for the High Warlock here for now, not inviting you…" 

"Would be an insult. Right," 

Alec makes an apologetic face. "Yeah."

"Well, I'll see you there then."

Alec grins sardonically, “Can’t miss it for the world.”

\-----

In proper Shadowhunter fashion the groom stands at the altar in a jacket embroidered with gold runes of importance to the family. Jonathon Lightwood has an anger rune over his left bicep and a mnemosyne on his floating ribs, oddly, both are old markers of the Wayland family. Ephraim watches Lightwood’s suggenes press himself close to Lightwood.

“Brother, are you well?” Morgenstern asks. “Will you go ahead as we planned?”

“I—yeah. I will.” Lightwood nods and his hands come to fiddle with the top button of his jacket.

Ephraim strikes his staff against the stone tiled floor twice, to signal the beginning of the ceremony. Whatever Morgenstern and Lightwood are up to, he should not meddle.

Somewhere in the back of the hall, a lone musician plays for the bride’s entrance—an import from mundane culture that Ephraim finds endearing.

The bride herself is in a champagne-coloured dress in a style Ephraim cannot name. It is not the duty of a silent brother to study in mortal matters.

She reaches the dais where Ephraim and her fiance stand and hands her bouquet off to Lightwood’s sister.

Ephraim taps his staff against the floor and begins. He tries not to think of the time before the brotherhood, when he had spoken these words aloud, at eleven, pretending to marry his parabatai to her sweetheart. 

We are here to see the joining of Clarissa Morgenstern and Jonathon Lightwood in wedded union. If there are objections from the crowd let them be known now.

“I call an objection on the grounds of infidelity,” Johnathon Morgenstern calls from the steps of the dais. “I have seen her committing indecent acts.”

Can the objector name the acts committed?

“Acts of a sexual nature.” Morgenstern conjures a look of sympathetic disgust only Bertolt Brecht would find good acting, “I shall not go into further detail to spare the fairer constitutions among us. Yet i find it necessary to hand this conversation to my brother, who was my joint witness to these sordid acts.”

As if on cue Lightwood jumps to life;

“She’s a goddamn—I saw her with a faery last night! The one with the tattoos.” 

“I wasn’t!” The bride wails, “I swear!”

"I was with Meliorn the other night." the bridesmaid, Isabelle, cuts in, "What are you saying?"

"I know what I saw." 

"Clearly." Alexander Lightwood spits at his brother, leaving his place in the second row.

"What's that supposed to mean? Huh?" Jonathon demands. 

"It means I don't appreciate you calling my sister a liar, Jace." 

Alexander seems to hold back from saying something else, Ephraim isn’t quite sure what. Still, Jonathon's face contorts with rage.

“Oh, of course you’d side with her! You're both just gagging for downworlder cock aren’t you!”

Alexander recoils in shock,”Excuse me?”

"You, her, and your fucking sister!" Jonathon points wildly. "You all planned this didn't you!" 

"Shut up!" Snaps Izzy, "Not everything is about you!"

Jonathon's nostrils flare wide, "You shut up, you little—" 

Alexander punches him. Hard. Jonathon staggers back, clutching his nose. 

Maia, a werewolf somewhere in the congregation, feels oddly proud of Alexander, Ephraim can tell, it drips off her in waves. But she knows it can't continue. Everyone else has frozen, too shocked to do anything, Maia hikes up her skirt and marches forward. Jonathon strikes back.

He takes hold of Alexander’s hair and pulls him down to the ground, where he seems very set on attempting to choke him. 

"Get off him," Maia yells, it snaps a few people out of their stupor and they rush forward to pull the Lightwood siblings apart.

“I’d do it again,” spits Jonathon, Held back by Adela Macedo Vadecorto of the Cardiff Institute. “Fucking animal! No wonder your parents hate you!”

Maia slaps him. There’s an aura of understanding between her and Alexander Lightwood now, even though they’ve never spoken. Ephraim agrees that Jonathon deserves to be slapped around a bit.

“Bitch!” Jonathan sneers, ugly face twisted into something even more horrible.

She does it again. “Shut up, asshole.”

The bride, since forgotten, muffles a sob and collapses into a pile of champagne taffeta.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: the bit where Raphael and Maia talk about alec staring at Magnus' ass was the first bit i wrote for this fic. -human_mosquito


End file.
